Diablo
by RStrickman
Summary: This is a one-off from Sebastian's POV. It concerns what happened immediately after he was resurrected and he and Jace were bound to each other. Sebastian explores his new feelings for Jace and Clary, and makes some ominous decisions.


Jonathan was still trying to get used to the sensation of being alive again. His blood thundered through his veins with the force of a whitewater rapid; his heart seemed loud enough to wake up the angels. Just breathing was a pleasure so intense as to be dizzying; and it was marvelous to feel dizzy, too. In fact, every sensation—even stiffness, disorientation and pain as formerly dead muscles came back to life—was euphoria.

However, he couldn't let himself get too distracted. They had to reach the apartment before the Nephilim discovered his body gone and Jace missing.

"Sebastian?" said Jace, and Jonathan felt another thrill, just at hearing his brother's voice. "Do we have a destination, or are we just going to run around in circles all night? Not that I really object, understand—nothing like a workout—but it might be smart to get under cover."

Jace was still Jace, Jonathan reflected wryly, even under a demonic spell. "We're going to Father's apartment," he said, striding along the concrete sidewalk. "The New York entrance should be somewhere nearby. We need to get there before the Shadowhunters realize we're gone."

Incredibly, Jace actually hesitated, half-turning back on the sidewalk. "Clary…"

"Never mind Clary," said Jonathan impatiently. "We'll attend to her later. Come on; it's just another block."

Jace obeyed; he had no choice. Sebastian smirked a little as he led his bewitched brother onward. Giving Jace orders—and having them obeyed!—was a pleasure almost as powerful as being alive again.

Ah—there was the stretch of plain brick wall, hidden behind a dumpster in the alley. Without being told, Jace drew his seraph blade and kept watch while Jonathan negotiated the magical door.

It opened before them and Jonathan stepped confidently in, followed closely by Jace, who was still scanning all around them. "You can relax now," Jonathan said. "They can't find us here. Can't even trace us." Behind them, the door sealed itself seamlessly shut.

Jace relaxed, staring around the ultra-modern apartment curiously. His golden eyes shone a little in the dim light. Jonathan waved his hand in front of the motion-sensor light, and Jace blinked as the light came on, illuminating him in all his gold-haired glory.

Jonathan found he was beaming at Jace. He still remembered his old hatred and jealousy of his brother—Lilith's spell had not washed it utterly away—but now it seemed like a childhood quarrel, long since resolved and completely irrelevant. Now he could not look at Jace without an upsurge of warmth and affection. Was this the emotion that others referred to as love? He did not know. All he knew was that Jace was now as essential to him as oxygen; and Jace felt the same way about him.

At this point Jonathan's reverie was interrupted by his legs giving way underneath him. Staggering, he fell against the wall, breathing hard, heart pounding.

"Sebastian!" Jace's voice rang with concern, and Jonathan felt the unfamiliar sensation of someone else's hands on him, supporting him. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Jonathan gasped, and it was true. This was not weakness or illness attacking him, but an excess of strength and vitality: his body, having kept the shock of resurrection at bay long enough to get to safety, had now surrendered to reaction.

After a few seconds, though, his heartbeat slowed and his body fell back into normal rhythms. Taking a few deep, calming breaths, he turned to Jace, who was still anxiously hovering. Jace seemed to be showing no signs of physical discomfort or distress, he noticed. "Did you feel that?" he asked.

"Your attack, you mean?" Jace looked intrigued. "I could feel that you were in pain," he said. "But I didn't feel the pain itself."

"Interesting." Jonathan shoved off from the wall and made his way to the ultramodern kitchenette. Rummaging around a drawer, he withdrew a sharp steel knife and carefully nicked himself.

Jace was too well trained to cry out, but he did jump and stiffen. Silently, he held out his hand, which was bleeding in exactly the same spot that Jonathan had cut himself.

"Looks like blows and wounds affect us equally," said Jonathan. "But not so much with nondestructive sensations."

Jace was shaking his hand ruefully. "Warn me next time!"

"Don't be a baby; it's just a little cut," grinned Jonathan. He glanced at his own cut, which was already closing. "And you should be healing up now, anyway."

Jace stared at his own disappearing cut. "How the hell is that happening?"

"I heal fast. Our bond must mean that you do, too." Jonathan put down the knife. He straightened and closed his eyes, calming his mind, and murmured the phrase of the spell.

There was no sense of movement or travel; if it hadn't been for the changed view outside the window, they might have still been in New York. However, the view _had _changed: the sun was just setting over high towers plastered with Asian letters and signage, and black-haired people moved along the street outside.

Jace blinked. "Hate to sound stupid, but what exactly did you do?"

"Closed the New York entrance and opened the Tokyo door," said Jonathan. "This apartment is like a five-dimensional door or the Silent City: it has a lot of entrances and exits, all in different places."

Jace looked reluctantly impressed. "Valentine used this apartment?"

"He _built _this apartment. How do you think he got around without the Clave knowing?"

Jace chuckled. "And to think," he said, "he made me go everywhere on foot or horseback when I was a kid."

Jonathan snorted. "Typical of Valentine." He went over to peer into the refrigerator. Empty, of course. They would have to get supplies.

Jace sauntered after him. Neither felt like going too far from the other. "You do know he's dead, right?"

"Of course; do you think we'd be here if he wasn't?" Jonathan shut the fridge, which gave a flash of electronic lights as it readjusted itself. "Lilith told me: he got to Lake Lyn and tried to summon the Angel—after sacrificing both of us, I might add—to fuel his hubris and sense of righteous martyrdom. And so, as even a mundane might have foreseen, the Angel struck him down for his sacrilege. What's so surprising about that?"

Jace raised an eyebrow. "Not going to shed a tear, huh?"

Jonathan grinned at him; his facial muscles stretched pleasurably at the exercise. "Come, Jace: did you really expect me to?"

Jace responded with his own creeping grin. "Not really."

They shared a dark chuckle. It was a strange sensation, Jonathan thought, laughing _with _somebody rather than _at_ them. It gave him yet another pleasurable thrill.

"So what now?" Jace began moving around the apartment, inspecting the widescreen TV and the living room furniture. "Not that this isn't nice, but we can't hide out here forever." He turned to face Jonathan. "I need to see Clary again." This was stated flatly, with no allowance for argument.

"You will," Jonathan assured him. "Just not right away. There's some things we need to do first." He sat on the black leather sofa. "Sit down, Jace."

Obediently, Jace sat beside him, lounging against the sofa's other arm. "What kind of 'things?'"

"That's just the problem," Jonathan admitted. It was very odd—yet another oddness—to be able to trust someone else so completely. Never before had Jonathan trusted anyone—not even Valentine—to this extent. He could tell Jace _anything_. The thought brought with it another heady rush of power, and he took pleasure in saying, "I don't know exactly. I know what I want, but I don't know exactly how to accomplish it."

"A great philosophical observation," said Jace. "We know what we want, but how to accomplish it? You could write a book." He grinned a little. "_Are _you planning to write a book? Because it's quite easy to supply for that, you know. Just a quick trip to a computer store—"

"I'm not going to write a book," said Jonathan. "Don't be foolish."

"No book? Too bad, because I think it might have topped the bestseller list. So then: you must be planning to conquer the world." The way Jace said it, Jonathan might have been planning to visit the grocery store.

Jonathan's eyes widened. "How did you know?" Did the bond between them allow for mind reading?

Jace grinned. "Come on, Sebastian: you're Valentine's biological son. It's in your blood."

"I am not Valentine's son." Jonathan spoke with a sneer of derisive anger. "Not anymore. He betrayed me: left me to die while he summoned the Angel. In the end, he was no father to me; and so I am no son to him."

Jace gave him an odd look. "You sound like Clary."

Jonathan went very still. "What did you say?"

"You sounded like Clary there," said Jace. "She's always said that Valentine was no father to me. Or her, either. She hasn't mourned him at all." He shrugged. "And why should she, since she was the one who killed him."

Jonathan could feel his heart racing again; but this time with something more vivid and more potent than excitement. "The Angel killed Valentine."

"Only because Clary allowed it."

Jonathan felt his breathing speed up. He forced himself to calm down, not get his hopes up: Clary had disappointed him before, after all. He had to know all the facts.

"Jace," he said slowly, "tell me absolutely everything that happened after you killed me. Tell me exactly what happened at Lake Lyn."

And so Jace told him the whole story: how he had tried to kill Valentine but Valentine had killed him instead, and bound Clary in a spell, to force her to watch while he summoned Raziel. How Clary had disrupted the summoning ceremony. How the Angel had killed Valentine, with her blessing.

When Jace finished, he looked closely at Jonathan. "Sebastian? Are you okay?"

Jonathan did not answer. He was breathing hard again; his face was warm, and he knew he was flushing with excitement. And not just excitement: happiness coursed through him, a sense of joyous discovery. For he had been wrong, he realized: incredibly, wonderfully wrong to think that Clary, his sister Clarissa, had been a disappointment to him, that she was just another puling Shadowhunter. No, he realized joyously: no, she was far more than that.

"And after?" he said at last, carefully. "Did she ever show any signs of…regret? No remorse or mourning?"

"Of course not."

No, of course not, Jonathan thought, triumph blazing in him. For she was the one, wasn't she? The one he'd dreamed of. His sister, his equal, his companion. The one who was just like him, who saw the world as he did, just as ruthless, just as joyously murderous. His sister. His soul mate. _Clary._

"Sebastian?" Jace's voice floated in the air. "Earth to Sebastian."

Still wrapped in his wild happiness, Jonathan focused on his brother. "Why are you still calling me Sebastian?"

Jace immediately looked contrite. "Sorry—would you like me to stop?"

Jonathan smirked, enjoying the sight of Jace apologizing, Jace begging to know what he wanted. "No, little brother," he said slowly. "No, I would not like you stop. That will be my name now: Sebastian Morgenstern. _Jonathan _is the name of my old life: the name my miserable parents gave me, so they could use me and betray me. _Jonathan _is dead. _Sebastian _is the future."

Sebastian Morgenstern stood up and went to the window. Darkness had fallen completely over Tokyo; darkness that was pierced by a million, million lights. Lights, Sebastian thought with a creeping grin, that would soon go out forever.

"I will be Sebastian Morgenstern," he vowed, "and, together, Jace, we will be greater than Valentine ever dreamed of being. We will have this world at our feet, the Nephilim on their knees. We will have our _own _Nephilim, our own army: and with them we will control the world."

Sebastian held out his hand, and Jace joined him at the window. Sebastian ran his fingers through his brother's soft gold hair, delighting in the contact, while Jace stood submissive and still.

"And Clary," he whispered, relishing the sound of her name. "Let's not forget her. We'll bring her with us, Jace, on this journey of ours, and bind her to us, and we'll see if she doesn't join our side of her own free will. For in the end, Jace, she's ours. Yours and mine. And she knows it."

And, closing his eyes and imagining his brother was his sister, Sebastian kissed Jace on the forehead and held him close.

Outside, the world screamed by, oblivious to the monstrosity that had just been born.


End file.
